I was up at 5am -- the morning of my second first day of college. Anna had pulled some strings, undoubtedly because of her last name -- our last name, and had gotten me enrolled in the same university as her. The college was located in the heart of the city and had a highly regarded Arts and Business program. I had been up early to try and figure out what I wanted with my future. I had no family to fall back on, and I needed to move out of Anna's house soon. My college education was benevolently funded by Jean's deep pockets and I kept falling deeper and deeper into debt with a man I wanted to stay clear from.

I finally managed to drag myself and get ready for the big day. I was a bag of nerves when I entered the dining room to find Anna already scoffing down a plate of fluffy pancakes. Francis was already fussing over her and trying to force some orange juice down her throat.

"Francis, I hate OJ," Anna said, blocking Francis from pouring any into her glass.

"If your body could talk, it would disagree," Francis clapped back. He again tried to maneuver some juice into her glass.

My entrance seemed to distract Francis from Anna and he bustled towards me and started to fret over my breakfast plans. 

"I actually will be skipping breakfast today, Francis," I said.

Francis looked at me with a severe expression that brooked no disagreements and said, "You'll have a plate of buttered croissants." Completely ignoring any arguments from me, he simply headed into the pantry to get me my food. 

"You aren't leaving here till you feel like ripping open the top button of your pants," Anna says through a mouthful of pancakes.

"Is he always like this?" I ask.

"He's been this way since I was 2," Anna replies. "You think I wanted these pancakes? He won't let me leave till every last morsel is licked clean off my plate."

"You've known him since you were 2?"

"Francis has been here all my life. He took me to my first day of kindergarten. He also taught me how to ride my first bicycle. I remember falling off my bike in the driveway and scraping my knee. I didn't stop crying till he cleaned all my cuts and soothed me with a big bowl of hot fudge brownie and vanilla ice cream. The man is at least a 100 years old," Anna says.

Just then Francis comes in with a plate stacked with croissants and I seem to lose the nerve of rejecting the old man his tiny request. Anna seems to think the same when she grudgingly allows him to pour her a tall glass of OJ. "You can convince me to eat anything, Fran," Anna says. She smiles at him with nothing but love in her eyes. Francis continues to dote over her, as if she were his own granddaughter, for the rest of the morning till we finally make our way to a tinted black SUV. Gabe is casually leaning against it in a sharply dressed black shirt and dark blue jeans.

"Your front button is open," Gabe looks up from his phone and says to me.

"What?" I quickly look down and find, to my astonishment, that I had forgotten to zip up and button my pants.  Anna was not joking when she said I would be in need of the extra room to stuff all the food Francis would feed me. I turn around in embarrassment to fix the situation when I find Jean 4 feet in front of me with furrowed brows, looking at me standing with my panties on full display, as if I were unhinged. I could hear Gabe muffle his laugh into a cough, unlike Anna, who had bellowed out loud at my impeccable timing. 

Jean kindly side stepped me, making no comment, and instead headed for Anna. "Are you ready for your first day?"

"Yes, I am. I've done it twice already now," Anna says, rolling her eyes at her brother's protective nature.

Jean goes up to her, hands in his pockets, and says, "Were you able to transfer all your credits from India?"

"I did. They were acting pricey at first, but they finally gave in to me."

Jean smiled at that. "Mum always said you would make a fine lawyer. You could always talk me out of doing stupid stuff in high school." 

At the mention of her parents, Anna would always turn somber. Today was no exception. "You do realize I was always got paid for that right?"

"What!" Jean asks in shocked amusement. 

Anna laughs. "Yes, I earned a lot of money the summer you started dating that blonde bimbo, Caroline Rochers. Mum hated her."

"Were you behind sabotaging my weekend with her in Switzerland?"

"Well, technically yes. But I would not have been able to do it without Vincent."

"Vincent helped you?!" Jean asks in amazement. Anna had told me earlier that Vincent and Jean had been best friends since high school and were now in business together. The three of them had grown up together and he was basically like family.

"Yeah, I think he had a thing for Caroline too," Anna says.

Jeans nods in fond remembrance of simpler times. " I can't blame him. She was a very gifted . . .," Jean was going to complete that sentence when he looked back at Anna's raised eyebrows, and instead finished with " . . . swimmer. She was a very gifted swimmer."

"Mm hmm," Anna responds, not believing a word out of her brothers mouth.

Jean looked at Gabe in knowing understanding and the two men discreetly smile at successfully avoiding an awkward blunder. "Well, I just wanted to wish you the best for another first day at college."

"Thanks, Jean," Anna says and hugs him.

I had never seen such blatant physical affection between the two. The both of them shied away from public displays, but violently protected each other Even more weird was seeing such a light-hearted and sweet side of Jean, who was capable of acting playful with his sister. He hugged her back, slightly awkward at the blatant display of love, and  simply said, "Mum and Dad would have been so proud of you."

Anna lets go of Jean and her eyes are shining with unshed tears. "Likewise."

Jean nods back, as if not truly believing that his parents would have been proud of the man he had turned out to be. There was a brief display of vulnerability in his stance that vanished as quick as cotton candy in water. Almost as an afterthought Jean turns towards me and clips out a "Good Luck". I thank him and both Anna and I settle into the car with Gabe at the driver's seat. I was ready to head back into normalcy.

Once we made it college, Anna strutted towards her first class after a quick goodbye to me. She headed towards the Arts Building whereas I made my way slowly towards the Business School. I collected my class schedule from the College Campus Coordinator that was located in the East Wing, coincidentally in the same building as my first lecture -- Accounting. 

It took a while to reach there and when I entered, everyone was already seated and taking down notes diligently. I slowly made my way up the stairs located at the edges of the auditorium size lecture hall, all the way to the last bench. I was almost there when I tripped and fell flat on my face, the contents of my bag spilling everywhere around me. My note books were sprawled across the ground while my pens and stationery were rolling down the stairs I had just tried silently climbing. The commotion had caused the professor to stop mid lecture and stare at me while I collected my things hastily. Everyone's eyes were on me and I flushed at the attention and embarrassment.

"Fuck," I muttered to myself. I was still frantically collecting my belongings, with absolutely no help from anyone in the vast audience, when I apologized out loud. "Sorry for disturbing, professor. I lost my way -- it's my first day."

The professor peers at me through his round shaped glasses and his quiet demeanor causes me to get tense. "We have a rule in this class. If you can't find your way to this lecture on time, you are definitely not smart enough for this course." My cheeks burn up at the public chastisement. "What's your name, Miss?" 

"Ella.  Ella Renauld."

The Professor solemnly looks at me and says. "Consider this your last warning, Miss Renauld. Next time I won't be this generous."

I mutter another quiet apology and make my way to the last bench. I slump down as far into my seat as possible out of sheer embarrassment. The professor, Mr. Karl Bachman, resumes his lecture on Ouchi's Theory of X and Y. I try to concentrate on his words but I am too self-conscious and agitated to really absorb his lecture. 

I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder and turn around. I find an attractive man in his late 20's, athletically built and tall with a congenial smile on his face. His cheeks have two cute dimples that brings out the youthfulness. "Hi, I am Adam. That was quite an entrance you made."

I snort back at my less than dignified entrance. "Not my finest moment," I reply. 

"Where did you transfer from?" Adam asks.

I suddenly clam up. I wasn't sure the extent to which I was allowed to reveal my past. I went with the safest bet. "I am not from France, actually. Are you from here?" I ask trying to deflect the question. 

"No, I am actually on a semester abroad program from UCLA. I am from California."

"Wow. I have always wanted to visit America."

Adam smiles. "It's a great country. West coast is a lot better. Good food, good beaches and great weather. A lot better than Paris."

"I'll take your word for it. It's my first time in Paris."

"No kidding. Mine too."

"Miss Renauld, I would appreciate if you would kindly keep your thoughts to yourself while I teach this class," the Professor's voice booms through the hall's speakers.

I feel mortified at being called out again and tears well up in my eyes. I ignore the stares and barely cloaked laughs from my classmates. I turn my head down and pretend to take down notes to block out the humiliation. I hear a quiet "He's an asshole" from behind me. I realize it's from Adam and I smile. I feel a little flutter in my heart at his kindness. The rest of the lecture continues smoothly without any interruptions from my end. AT the end of the lecture, Adam leaves me with his phone number. "If you ever want someone to show you around, I'd be more than happy to." With that, I feel a little more relaxed at finally making one friend in this new country. 

The next few classes were a lot better with professors that seemed to be a lot nicer to their students. I had promised Anna I would ride with her back home and make my way over to the tinted black SUV. It was already here to pick up Anna and Gabe was already in the driver's seat. I find Anna talking to someone whose back is to me. They seem to be having a heated argument. Anna was rapidly speaking in French and moving her arms around to make a point while the man's back seemed to get rigid with each word Anna uttered. When I come closer, I notice this man is the same person whom I had encountered when I had first entered Anna's house. I think his name was Vincent -- Jean and Anna's childhood friend as well as his business partner.

Upon noticing me, both Anna and Vincent quiet down and revert back to English. Anna introduces me again to Vincent. He gives me a strained smile and says, " Nice to meet you again, Aisha. Or do you prefer Ella now?"

"I guess I am Ella now," I answer.

"How was your first day?"

"I am still trying to process it,"  I say, still scarred by Professor Bachman. 

"It will get better," Vincent says. He offers me a comforting smile and then tries to console me further. "This might be quite a drastic change for you. If you ever need anything, you are welcome to ask me for any help. Anna told me you both are very close. Now that you're a Renauld, I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of each other and I hope we can become good friends too."

I feel calmed by Vincent's polite offer at friendship. "I'll definitely take you up on that."

Vincent grins at my response and offers his goodbyes with a kiss on both cheeks to Anna and me. Gabe drives us back home and the car ride is filled with playful banter and jokes that I have always come to expect of him. When we reach the driveway, we make our way inside when I hear a throaty feminine laugh. I turn trying to locate the sound out of sheer curiosity when I find Jean and a beautiful woman on his arm walk out towards the driveway from the side entrance of the house. She was a stunning 6 foot woman, almost as tall as Jean. She had luscious blonde hair and was impeccably dressed in a tight dress that accentuated her best features. Jean seemed to have been escorting her towards an unknown grey BMW that I had not noticed was parked at the edge of the house. He had his hand resting leisurely on her lower back and she had a flirtatious smile on her face as they silently spoke to one another. They hadn't noticed me standing just a few feet to their left. 

"Is that Alexa Durham?" 

I jump. Anna was right by my side all of a sudden. I had assumed she had walked to her room but had found her way back when she noticed I was not following her.

"Do you know her?" I ask.

"Not personally. She works for IMG Models. She's been the face for Versace and Bvlgari in France for the past 5 years," Anna says. Anna looks at the woman from head to toe, appreciating the sleek dressing sense of the chic woman who had captured Jean's attention.

Now that Anna had mentioned, she did look familiar to me. I think I had seen posters of her adorning the walls of all airports and malls. She was only in her mid-twenties and the woman had carved herself to be a dominant player in the modelling world. She was rumored to be the next Kate Moss, with her angelic and innocent face accompanied by her waif thin figure. She had been linked up to several prominent actors and singers.

"Eh, she's probably just his latest distraction," Anna says and dismisses the woman. She walks back into the house, while I stay rooted for some inexplicable reason to my spot.

Jean had finally guided her to her car and opened the door for her like the perfect gentlemen. I was going to turn around and follow Anna back inside when Alexa clasped her hand behind Jean's neck and pulled him in for a long and languid kiss. I was not a voyeur but something about the sight of Jean being so intimate with someone felt unnatural to me. Alexa let go of his mouth and pecked his lips a few times, mumbling a few words to him to which Jean simply nodded. The exchange seemed intensely personal. She went in for one last hug, as if the thought of leaving Jean was already causing her sadness. Jean hugged her back and looked right at me.

I found his piercing gaze meet mine in a clash of lightning. He quirked on his eyebrows as if to signal his bewilderment of me gaping at his personal exchange. I snapped out of my daze and made my way back to my room. I didn't stop running till I was safely in my room with the door locked shut. The fact that I had been staring unabashedly at such a private exchange was a source of consternation for me. I was getting a little too interested in understanding Jean when I needed to be figuring out my life.